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presence so Lauren was coming.
    Metal made his voice hard. He liked Lauren, but this was serious. “We’re going to a place you are going to forget about as soon as we leave. Am I clear?”
    Jacko narrowed his eyes at the tone Metal took with Lauren, but tough shit. This was important.
    Lauren merely nodded. “Yes, of course. If they can help Felicity without notifying the authorities, which is what she’s frightened of, then great. But I want to stay with her.”
    Metal nodded, walking out the door with Felicity in his arms. She was conscious but kept her eyes closed. Her energy was draining minute by minute.
    On the ground were traces of blood. He cut a glance at Jacko, who nodded. He’d clean up the trail later.
    “We’ll go in separate vehicles,” he told Jacko, who immediately steered Lauren to his SUV.
    Metal put Felicity in the backseat, lying down.
    “Okay,” he said softly. She’d opened her eyes again and looked at him. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the streetlight and the lamp over Lauren’s porch. Felicity’s sky-blue eyes reflected the little light there was, making it look like her eyes glowed in the dark. “I’ll drive as fast as I can but without any sudden stops or fast curves. I can’t put the seat belt on you, but you should hold on to it. Okay?”
    She nodded silently. In the dim light he could barely make out her features, the streetlight illuminating only the pale blade of her nose and outlining high cheekbones. The urge to kiss her on the forehead was so great that he scrambled out fast and climbed into the driver’s seat.
    The weather was really bad but Metal was a good driver. Rain or shine, he could get just about any vehicle smaller than a tank to where he wanted to go. It was tricky driving as fast as he could while making the ride as comfortable for her as possible, but he managed.
    Pity she couldn’t go to St. Vincent’s, which wasn’t far. Instead they were going to
La Clìnica.
    It was a clinic for illegal aliens who didn’t dare go to the hospital for medical care because they had no documentation. No health insurance, either. It was run by Manuel Gomez, a former marine Metal had bonded with on a cross-training exercise in Somalia. Gomez had had an illustrious career in the military and no one had known that he was illegal. His parents had crossed the border, desperate to flee from the first of the cartel drug wars, when Manuel was eight. He’d enlisted with fake documents but he’d been such an outstanding soldier that even if someone suspected, they’d turned a blind eye. He’d trained as a medic and had gone on to medical school afterward. Manuel was one of the best doctors Metal had ever seen.
    He’d set up the clinic that ran with volunteer doctors on the basis of donations, which were generous. Many legal immigrants had relatives who were undocumented but needed care. The clinic saved lives daily.
    Metal had phoned ahead and Manuel was waiting for them. Metal carried Felicity in, careful not to jostle her. Jacko and Lauren trailed behind.
    The clinic was in a warehouse carefully disguised from the outside to look abandoned. Lucky thing Felicity was unconscious as he carried her in because she might have balked. Lauren and Jacko followed him in, Lauren muttering darkly until Jacko shushed her.
    They went through two rooms, dusty and dark, with broken machinery and rusted parts scattered over the bare concrete flooring before they came to big double doors. When Jacko reached past him and opened them, Metal heard Lauren gasp.
    It was a small, immaculate clinic, capable of dealing with everything from broken bones to minor surgery. Jacko contributed money to the clinic and Metal contributed money and time.
    No one asked for documentation or insurance papers.
    When Metal got Felicity on a gurney, Manuel wheeled her into a side room and started infusing her. Metal stayed with her while Jacko and Lauren remained in the small entrance that served as a